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A couple helps each other fulfill their fantasies.

I rolled my naked little sister over onto her back. That gave me complete access to her little titties, and I took a nipple into my mouth while I cupped her other boob with a hand—nibbling one nipple at the same time I tweaked and caressed the other. She seemed lost in pleasure, aware only of the sensations I was causing.

Wanting to see her naked pussy again, I got to my knees between her legs. I raised her knees and parted them, so that she lay open before me. My cock projected toward her, and she stared at it in hunger and in fear. I had felt the tension in her body as I repositioned her legs, and I could see her apprehension—in her eyes and in the way she held her body. She thought, no doubt, that I meant to take her—there and then. But I had no such intention; I would not break the trust between us. And her apprehension convinced me that I had been right to break the contact we had enjoyed so much.

I wanted her, more than I had ever wanted anything. But she was my little sister, whom I had always protected from any kind of harm. It wasn't the fact that she was my sister that stopped me, but that she was the little sister whom I had always protected. Deciding not to go all the way with her that evening was easy: She wasn't ready, and that was that.

But we knew each other well; she could read the desire in my eyes just as easily as I could read the fear in hers. And I knew that she wouldn't refuse me anything I wanted—whatever the cost to herself. So abiding by the decision I made that moment in the tent was one of the most difficult things I have ever done.

After a brief struggle with myself, I did not do what she both craved and dreaded; rather, I whispered "Chick check," to her, reached down with both hands, and separated her outer lips. The sun was still above the horizon, but the tent filtered out a lot of the light. So, in the dimness, I bent down for a better look at one of my favorite sights.

The hidden inner glories of her femininity had not changed, except perhaps to attract me even more strongly. Holding her open with the fingers of one hand, I used the fingers of the other to stroke her inner lips and her clit, gently, tantalizingly, as I enjoyed the view. And she relaxed—seeing, now, that I would not take from her something she wasn't ready to give—nor give her something she feared.

Instead, I gave her something she wanted very much—but had not known she wanted.

We hadn't bathed since the evening before, and we had worked hard that day—so she had worked up a good sweat. My face was within inches of her naked, open pussy. In the sheltered confines of the tent, its unwashed, musky scent hypnotized me. I had never smelled anything that called to me so strongly, and, without conscious thought, I brought my face even closer.

Before long, I found myself—again without thought—kissing her lower belly and the sweet silky skin of her inner thighs. Then I kissed her hairy little brown triangle, working my tongue through to the skin below.

I could think only of the feel of her skin and the scent of her womanhood.

By now, she was lost in overpowering sensation, too.

I kissed the skin of her outer pussy lips, to each side of her cleft, and her fragrance overcame me completely. I placed my elbows on the sleeping bag, outside her thighs, and brought my hands up over her hips to clasp her thighs. After bringing my tongue to the bottom of her cleft, just below her opening, I slowly, slowly, slowly licked up the center of her furrow, following her inner lips to her clitoris.

I had thought on Monday evening, only two days earlier, that the touch of her fur was electric for both of us. This was more like lightning!

My tongue passed lazily over her opening and up between her inner lips; my cock surged powerfully.

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